My writing challenge this week
Feb. 20th, 2007 01:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
baronessekatAt first I didn't think I would be able to do this week's assignment. But I did. It is not where I planned on going.
I had intended to write about my pretty little oriental Dream Mage in Viridia. Seemed to be the logical choice given that the topic I was assigned was "dreaming".
But when I sat down a different voice spoke.
Leszeka gave me a bit of insight into her psyche.
People here always amazed her. Well not them per say, but their amazement at her amazed her.
She couldn’t understand how they were shocked by the amount of chemicals she would deliver into her system every day. But Leszeka couldn’t understand how they couldn’t.
The pills, the powders, the liquors, the injections all helped her to focus. They helped her to stay grounded in this reality.
Les never spoke of the life she came from before she found Vondis and the Golden Sheaf. It was none of their fucking business, thank you very much. She didn’t speak of it because to give voice to it would give it substance. The more she thought of it the more chance she had of waking up back there.
No, it was easier to live life full of highs and buzzes and braggarding and brawls. Crass language, brazen behavior, bizarre boastings all were a front; a defense mechanism that she had come to embrace and found it embracing back. She was a swaggering, tell it like it is asshole that drank too much, smoked too much, fought too much and maybe pointed her crossbow at people too much. So what? She was free here.
Yes, she was told that she lived in a world of her own. And she agreed with them. Vondis, she was convinced, was her creation - her unconscious mind’s escape from reality. Oh sure, not everyone would consider working as a bouncer in the best brothel in the city a dream job. But for her it was. She had friends there. She had love there. She had endless booze and drugs there. At the Sheaf, no one laughed at her because her stuffed lemur talked to her. They heard him too. Or at least pretended they did.
But she knew they were all figments of her imagination. Sometimes they went away. Sometimes she would close her eyes and she would return to the real nightmare. The life that she never spoke of. But she always managed to escape back to her dream world. There, if she took enough drugs, she maybe wouldn’t wake up. Maybe she could stay forever.
She knew that dreams were not real. And it wasn’t good to live in dreams.
But given the alternative, Les prayed that she someday would never wake up.
I had intended to write about my pretty little oriental Dream Mage in Viridia. Seemed to be the logical choice given that the topic I was assigned was "dreaming".
But when I sat down a different voice spoke.
Leszeka gave me a bit of insight into her psyche.
People here always amazed her. Well not them per say, but their amazement at her amazed her.
She couldn’t understand how they were shocked by the amount of chemicals she would deliver into her system every day. But Leszeka couldn’t understand how they couldn’t.
The pills, the powders, the liquors, the injections all helped her to focus. They helped her to stay grounded in this reality.
Les never spoke of the life she came from before she found Vondis and the Golden Sheaf. It was none of their fucking business, thank you very much. She didn’t speak of it because to give voice to it would give it substance. The more she thought of it the more chance she had of waking up back there.
No, it was easier to live life full of highs and buzzes and braggarding and brawls. Crass language, brazen behavior, bizarre boastings all were a front; a defense mechanism that she had come to embrace and found it embracing back. She was a swaggering, tell it like it is asshole that drank too much, smoked too much, fought too much and maybe pointed her crossbow at people too much. So what? She was free here.
Yes, she was told that she lived in a world of her own. And she agreed with them. Vondis, she was convinced, was her creation - her unconscious mind’s escape from reality. Oh sure, not everyone would consider working as a bouncer in the best brothel in the city a dream job. But for her it was. She had friends there. She had love there. She had endless booze and drugs there. At the Sheaf, no one laughed at her because her stuffed lemur talked to her. They heard him too. Or at least pretended they did.
But she knew they were all figments of her imagination. Sometimes they went away. Sometimes she would close her eyes and she would return to the real nightmare. The life that she never spoke of. But she always managed to escape back to her dream world. There, if she took enough drugs, she maybe wouldn’t wake up. Maybe she could stay forever.
She knew that dreams were not real. And it wasn’t good to live in dreams.
But given the alternative, Les prayed that she someday would never wake up.
